


Tango

by KuraiOfAnagura



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Dancing, M/M, Tango
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-31
Updated: 2017-01-31
Packaged: 2018-09-21 03:22:49
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,489
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9529550
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KuraiOfAnagura/pseuds/KuraiOfAnagura
Summary: Yuri thought dancing was fun. Never had he been that wrong.“My trainer and I discussed the training schedule for the off-season.”“And?”“It includes dance lessons.”“Ah.”





	

„You look like you were run over by a truck,“ Yuri said in lieu of a greeting as soon as their webcams had stopped bugging and gave him a good view on his friend.

“It’s that obvious?” Otabek gave a little sigh, which was his equivalent of a big huff.

“D-uh,” which was Yuri’s equivalent for ‘ _for me it is’_.

“My trainer and I discussed the training schedule for the off-season.”

“And?”

“It includes dance lessons.”

“Ah.”

“Yeah.”

“I thought you were done with ballet?”

“I’ve sworn to myself that I will never again set foot into a ballet studio unless it is to pick you up.”

“Or to fuck me over the bar.”

At this he gave a non-expressing sound, which Yuri’d come to understand was a remnant of Otabek’s upbringing and general dislike to crude talking outside of the bedroom.

“So, no ballet, then?” Yuri continued after he figured that Otabek’s current crisis outweighed his teasing potential.

“No. Appareantly it’s going to be standard dance and maybe a little bit Latin.”

Yuri made a humming sound. “I can see why your coach’s pressing you. You have deficiencies in that department and I’m sure a different approach to the music could help to develop your scating.”

Otabek nodded glumly. Yuri’s words held no teasing or malice, when they talked about skating it was always just honesty.

“I know.”

“But you’re not happy about it?”

“I am aware that my dislike may be somewhat biased by prejudices and previous experiences.”

“No, shit Sherlock,” Yuri gave an undignified snort as an additional answer.

Otabek rested his cheek in his hand and Yuri had to stifle a giggle. Usually rather sparse with his expressions off the ice, Yuri could only fathom how much it bothered him if he displayed such obvious signs of distress.

“I know I’m not one to talk when it comes to new training approaches-“

“Not after you gave that physio therapist a concussion.”

“It’s not my fault he can’t dodge shit!”

“Your aim with your mobile has become terrifying. Did you know that there’s a mobile throwing championship?”

“There is?” Yuri perked up. Otabek judged from the frantic hammering on the keys that Yuri had started to search on the internet.

“In Finland. Damn, that’s so cool. It would be awesome to hold two world champion titles, wouldn’t it?”

“Maybe. But for that you have to beat me at worlds.”

“Oh, it is so on Altin!”

Otabekt awarded him with his half smirk that never failed to send butterflies straight to his belly. Though why he never could resist the snapping teasing when he felt happy was beyond him. “But I admit I have to maybe take it up a notch. If you’re going to expand your horizon as well.”  
The taunting worked and he saw how Otabek’s expression soured. The squint in his eyes told him ‘ _you had to remind me, did you?_ ’

“All I’m saying is maybe you’ll get something out of it? Something like… and I know I’m using foreign words for you in context of dancing. Maybe something like, I don’t know? Fun?”

 

It was just at the crisp of the approaching season after this particular Skype call that the majority of the figure skater community; active and retired alike; got invited to the Bachelors Party of one Christophe Giacometti, who, after a nearly decade long ongoing engagement with his former coach, finally decided to settle down.  The wedding itself was scheduled for a week later and included mostly family. The party, or Polterabend, as Christophe called it, was a send-off and a last opportunity for the soon-to-be wedded to go all out. And apparently it required breaking a lot of old dinnerware. And a stripping pole. Though this might or might not be Christophe’s very personal tradition. Those Swiss were fun people, Otabek decided.

After dinner and most of the embarrassing games the engaged couple had to play through, some of the little tables were pushed on the side, people scooted closer with their chairs and Christophe was led to the newly created dancefloor for something akin to a pre wedding dance.  
Soon after the first dance finished, several couples meandered onto the dance floor.

“This Polterabend is actually the opportunity to celebrate our unison with our friends, since the wedding’s reserved for the family. Again, I’m really sorry, Victor.”

“No, no, don’t worry, my friend!”

“Is Victor not invited?” Phichit chirped up, voicing the question that was on everyone’s mind; after all Christophe had been Victor’s best man at his own wedding.

At this Christpohe’s cheeks were powdered with a slight blush, the one that was usually reserved for the ice. “Ah, you see, there’s the believe here that past lovers are bad luck at weddings and my mother’s really superstitious!”

Yuri made a slight gagging noise while Yuuri choked into his drink. Victor only smiled fondly at Christophe. “Ah, sweet memories of the days of innocent youth…”

“Knowing you both, it was everything else but innocent!”

“Hush, Yurio, don’t spoil my memories.”

“So, what do you say, Vic? For old times’ sake?” He offered him a hand and Victor stood, with this ridiculous gentle smile on his face, and led Christophe to the dance floor. The song was slow and he seamlessly slipped into the female role despite him leading Yuuri earlier.

“I don’t know if I speak for anybody else, but I for myself could’ve lived without this vile information.” Phichit nodded mutely while he rubbed the still spluttering Yuuri’s back.

Suddenly a hand entered Yuri’s field of vision. Dumbstruck he followed the arm and found himself confronted with that half smile Otabek so rarely displayed before others.

“How about it? Would you also like to dance?”

The ‘ _and look gross like that balding geezer over there’_ died on his tongue.

„I've never done dancing with a partner.“ Yuri stared down on Otabek's hand, unmoving.

„Would you believe me if I told you it's actually pretty easy?“

“I wouldn't believe anybody who told me that I'll get that sentence from Otabek Altin of all people.” Otabek raised his eyebrows further in a silent question. Yuri sighed and took his hand, allowing him into a less frequented corner of the dance floor.

“Put your left hand on my shoulder, your other hand in mine. The basic step sequence never changes-”

“Wait, you're leading?”

“I am.”

“Why?”

“Because I know what I'm doing and you just admitted one minute ago that you never did that before.”

All he got was a venomous glare for an answer. Otabek had developed a frighteningly precise habit of picking the right answers to shut him up.

“As I said, the basic step sequence, your left foot goes back-,” he nudged Yuris foot with his until it slid into the desired position. “Right foot follows. Step to the right. Step forward, left follows. Like a circle.”

“Got it.” They went through the steps three more times before Yuri tripped over his feet. Otabek threw him closer until their bodies were firmly pressed together.

“Don't look at your feet. Listen to my body; you know how to do that, don't you?”

Yuri bared his teeth angrily at him. “Yeah,” he breathed. Otabek held their gaze steady as he pressed Yuri's body into the desired steps.

“Let go, follow my lead. Come on, I thought you were a natural in this?”

And a natural he was. After one last hissed reply Yuri had let got and relaxed himself into Otabek's embrace. It wasn't long until Otabek could waltz him over the dance floor, twirling and turning to his whims. It was almost frighteningly how fast his beautiful ever evolving monster adapted to things which he'd needed months of training to learn.  
Otabek gently guided him into the step sequence of a disco fox and after that all hell was loose. His boyfriend spun him over the dance floor, back and forth, in twists and turns. Yuri laughed as his hair fluttered around them with each beat of the rhythm. Suddenly he was bent backwards and the music stopped. Yuri looked up and into the lavishing grin of his lover. He just couldn't help himself, but whenever Otabek smiled, really smiled, he had to kiss him.

“I have to admit. You were right about the fun part,” Otabek murmured into their kiss. Sweat glistered on their faces and Yuri felt hot.

“Well, who would've thought?”

Slightly panting they made their way back to their tables.

“Wow, Otabek! I didn't know you could dance like that!” Victor greeted them with his ridiculous heart shaped smile.

“Thank you, it was part of my off-season training schedule actually. So the lessons are still fresh.”

“Hey, what about me! I don't think I looked too shabby!”

“Aww, Yurio, but that didn't count! Everybody can dance if the partner can lead!”

“Fuck off, Victor! It's not like it's real dancing anyway!”

“Spoken like a true Prima Ballerina from the Bolshoi!”

“Victoooor!”

“Don't tease him, Victor,” Yuuri tried to intervene as Mila stepped to their table. Yuuri peaked over her shoulder; she obviously tried to escape from the latest Crispino family drama as Sara was talking in a near staccato Italian to her brother with the additional death glare to Emil.

“Otabek! You do the Viennese waltz, too?”

“Sure,” he took her offered hand, gave Yuri a little wink and weaved seemingly effortlessly into the already twirling dancers.

“Yura! I wanna dance with you, too!” Victor got up and dragged him under cussing and cursing from the table. Yuuri waved weakly at them before Phichit offered him his hand with a grin.

 

Otabek ended up dancing a slow waltz with Sara Crispino, who'd finally ditched her two suitors and joined the dancers. Apparently she’d done a lot of standard dancing already.

“You are a rather good dancer,” she lowly murmured into his ear. Otabek felt a little unconscious, she still seemed rather irate.

“Coming from you I take it as a huge compliment,” he may have gotten the knack at standard over the summer, but he could tell that Sara's skill was way out of his league. Her style reminded him of one of his teachers, it was difficult for him to tell who was leading whom.

“Say, Otabek Altin, are you a gentle man?” A natural turn.

“Gentle? No, I cannot say that,” he lowly replied. Another turn, followed by a wing. During which her smile grew sly.

“Even better.”

 

“Come Yuuri, just one more glass! I know you like champagne!”

“Chris, please! Somebody has to bring us back to our hotel!”

“What are cabs for?”

“Victor! Not you too!”

“Yuri! Please!”

“Not my fucking problem, Katsudon.”

Victor's and Chris' giggles filled the table. “Aaaaw, my Yuuri, I wanna see you dancing again! Oh! Is that a tango?”

The telltale rhythm reached Yuri's ears and he tried to pin point I which movie he'd exactly heard this particular piece. Sara Crispino, her jet black hair tied into a tight bun, entered the dance floor and her predatory moves reminded Yuri of a cat stalking towards her pray. Slowly her arms slide around her body in pure seduction as she extended one hand towards their table, coaxing them with one lone finger.   
“Beka?” Yuri's voice was small as Otabek exhaled exasperated, stood up and faced Sara on the polished wood. He made a clear show of rolling up his sleeves, throwing her an annoyed glance and removing his tie in an irritated fashion. The music did a beat and with one sudden movement they were into each other, hands ghosting over limbs; he twirled her around in way that could only described as rough until they came yet to another stop, both of their legs sliding sinfully over the floor. The music continued and it was as if their feet were fighting a battle as they made their way, yet their boring gazes never wavered once. Yuri felt _something_ tugging down his spine as he saw Sara's long nails dragging over the fabric that covered Otabek's chest.

“Oh my gosh, should a leg really do that?”

“Shh, Victor!”

“Did you see how he's throwing her around?”

“Holy shit, that's hot!”

“Her legs, oh my god, her leg!”

Yuri’s companions were not helpful at all.

Otabek twirled her violently, pressing their hot bodies together and Yuri's mouth went dry as he saw the broad brown hand wavering over the lavishing curves of her flushed bosom. His brooding gaze wandering over her exposed form, his nose mere inches from her sweating skin. With one last thrust of the music and one last figure it was mercifully over.

Both Otabek and Sara were panting heavily as the crowd erupted in cheers. Emil was flabbergasted and a laughing Mila held a shrieking Michele in check. With one last twirl he helped Sara to her feet, pressed a kiss to her knuckles and watched her prancing away from him. Yuri didn't escape the little wink she threw him over her shoulder.

 

Despite popular believe, Yuri Plisetsky's true wrath was silent. He may have been known for his temper tantrums, his obscene yelling and his title as world champion for the most precise mobile toss over 50 yards, but Otabek Altin knew that the real fire of ire burned bright and silent within his lover.  
He wondered if he'd taken it a notch too far when he wasn't met with the aforementioned customs first hand upon his return.

“Otabek! That was amazing! You should totally include something like this in your future programs!”

With a breathless nod of thanks Otabek accepted the glass from Victor as he slid still panting into his chair. He combed his sweat glistering hair back and gave Yuri his lopsided smirk.

“And?” Victor could've sworn that Yuuri was on the verge of an aneurysm by the sheer nerve to taunt the time bomb that was Yuri Plisetsky even further.

“It looked very good.” Ok, now Victor's own eye was starting to twitch as well.

“Ah, Chris what a wonderful night! The best possible sendoff you can expect for your marriage!”

 

“What the fuck, Altin! What the actual fuck!?”

Otabek was proud of Yuri. He'd managed to close the door to their hotel room before he literally went berserk. Greedy hands grabbed fistfuls of his shirt and he was slammed backwards into the door, an angry mouth already on his, hot breath over his jaw. “If you wanted to make me angry, you've succeeded!” He tossed him around and shoved him unceremoniously onto the bed. Otabek escaped a moan as Yuri crawled over him, one knee pressing demanding into his crotch. With an angry grunt he lifted Otabek by his shirt into another hard kiss only to drop him again. Yuri started to dig his fingers into the place where _her_ fingers have been just half an hour before. He threw the man beneath him a hot glare and that was when he saw the smirk.

With a hasty gasp he stopped.

“I've been played,” he whispered, body rigid and in shock und sudden realization.

Otabek slowly lifted himself up, a leisure grin on his lips. He cocked his head right and left and gently searched for Yuri's hand.

Suddenly they were standing again, Yuri's eyes wide as he noticed that Otabek brought them back into their dancing position. His lover shook him hard, forcing their bodies together with his thigh forcefully partings his legs.

A predatory smirk.   
Yuri was at his mercy.

“You were.” He said and swirled him around. The world became a blur and suddenly he found himself bent backwards again, hovering over the floor only supported by a strong hand between his shoulder blades.

“Beka...” he could only whisper. Those dark and demanding eyes consumed him. Otabek ghosted with his lips over Yuri's exposed chest and when he spoke it was such a deep rumble that in vibrated deep within Yuri's body.

“Do you want to know,” he whispered as his tongue made its way from the sharp collar bone up his barred neck. “What Sara Crispino said to me...” Yuri couldn't fight back the moan as Otabek bit down hard on the nape of his neck. “... as her leg was wrapped around my neck?” He caught his eye, but all he could do was gape like a breathless fish.

“Three birds. One stone.”

He gasped and was thrashed onto the bed. With wide eyes he saw Otabek shedding his jacket. The dark glint in his eyes never left him and a cruel smirk played on his lips.

“I lead.”

 

 

 

„God Morning, Yurio! It looks as if you are extra grumpy today! Did you, by chance, not get enough sleep?”

“Fuck off, Victor,” Yuri grumbled into his arms that rested on the table. “I’ve been manhandled!” Oh no, this was definitely not a whine. “Aren’t there, like, laws against overly seductiveness?”

“No laws that apply to your age group, I fear. Ah, good morning, Otabek!”

“You’re of no help, Victor.”

With his ever stoic expression Otabek slid besides Yuri and took a careful sip of his hot coffee. His broad hind tried to rub little circles on the small of Yuri’s back but it only caused a painful hiss and a glare as Yuri suddenly straightened up.

Victor was beyond delight.

“See? Everybody can dance if the partner can lead!”

“I swear to god, Victor, I won’t be able to leave Switzerland because I will be arrested for homicide if you dare to say one more word!” There must’ve been a little bit more of his usual loathing in his words, because he felt Beka’s hand pressing his thigh. Victor just grinned way too brightly for the early hour and held his hands up in surrender.

With a ping the elevator arrived and a very sleepy Yuuri and an ever smiling Phichit emerged, staggering zombie like to their table. Yuuri’d never been a morning person. Like a dying man he reached for Victor’s coffee.

“Okay, Otabek, seriously. What was with that tango, yesterday?” Yuuri pulled a face at inevitable doom that was Phichit C. his ex-bestfriend, who knew nothing better as to taunt Yuri P. before he even finished the first coffee of the day. Poor Yuuri, he would die young, brutal and caffeine deprived in the fire that was his namesake’s wrath.  
Yuri had already drawn breath, collecting his amassed fury to rein destruction down on them, but Otabek was faster. With a small clink he put his cup down and leaned forward on the table, forcefully shielding them all from Yuri’s glare.

“Sara asked for a favor, that’s all.”

“A favor? I can hardly imagine that’s the reason.” Otabek Altin did not smile in front of most people, but he did smirk.

“She said Emil needs to get a message. And Michele needs to _really_ get the message. Again.  She told me that she did competitive standard besides the ice in her teenager years. I can’t keep up with her skill, so she suggested we take a reference. The choreography is actually from a movie, we looked it up beforehand on YouTube.”

“Ah, that explains the extraordinary figures you managed without training.” Damn Victor, of course something like this didn’t get past him.

“But it did look hot, though!” Otabek gave Phichit a sheepish little smile.

“There are only a handful of truly magical phrases, but one of them is clearly ‘Do you dance Tango?’”

Victor’s gaze strayed on a still fuming Yuri.

“Well, Yurio, I do think you’re aware that you brought this on yourself?”

With an exasperated groan Yuri threw his hands up in mock surrender. “Ok, ok, I get it! It was my own fault. I shouldn’t have said that it’s not real dancing, okay?! Don’t you dare to look smug, Beka!!”

“Aw, look Yuuri, their first fight as a couple! And Yurio admitted defeat, how mature! They grow up so fast!”

“I said I’m sorry, didn’t I? No shut the fuck up and don’t you dare to talk about it ever again or I will shave your head in your sleep!”

 

“Just one thing, Yura.”

“Hm?” Yuri looked up from where he was packing his stuff in his suitcase.

“Don’t hold it against Sara, ok? It was my decision to tease you like this. I could’ve always said no.”

Yuri’s mouth melted in a cat like grin, before he encircled Otabek’s neck with his slender arms. “Ah, don’t worry, Beka. It takes guts to play with my toys, I respect that.”

“…toys?”

“And besides… It was _hot_. Hotter than I would’ve imagined it.”

“That’s the point of Tango.”

“I wanna learn it!”

“What?”

“You heard me! I wanna dance like that with you! I’m pretty sure I can wrap my leg like that around your neck, too!” To underline his point he wrapped one long leg around his waist and drew him closer.

“That would be… fun.”

 

**Author's Note:**

> Fun fact: I can't dance to save my life.  
> And I've always thought the "You can dance if your partner can lead" crap is utter bullshit. Then I danced once with a guy who could really lead and Io and behold I was curedxD
> 
> I really love the imagine of a dark and brooding Otabek to dance a sinnfull Tango. Poor Yuri just happened to get the short straw here /D
> 
> The movie scene I used as a reference is this here: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=GSsfP8nRvYg


End file.
